


Intelligence

by orphan_account



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Absurd Premise, Canon Divergent, F/M, Hostile Technology, Inanimate Objects, Squirrels, arrow season 3.5, minimal plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 07:57:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7631578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity is dangerous when bored. (Season 3.5, Summer-of-Love one-shot.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intelligence

**Author's Note:**

> This was written after the end of season 3.
> 
> The antagonist is a sentient coffee maker with a crush on Oliver. I hope that this is the only female-jealousy fic that I ever write.
> 
> The original tags included "fluff," but a commenter yelled at me because the coffee maker was creepy. I consider this silly and fluffy, but I guess even the slightest hint of plot pisses off people in this fandom.

Felicity Smoak was bored. Which was the most ridiculous thing in the world, given that everything was absolutely perfect. It was a fantasy life, really, sitting with her feet up, drinking coffee, and watching Oliver do pushups. Shirtless. Any time she wished. It was like her own special superpower, the ability to make Oliver Queen take off his shirt whenever she wanted, and she was enjoying that to the fullest.

But that wasn’t the point. Or maybe it was the point. The problem was… Felicity liked having problems to solve. Not necessarily problems that involved the potential death of hundreds or thousands of people, though she had learned to handle those. But… something. She got in trouble without problems to solve. In college, when she had started hacking government databases because her introductory programming class was too easy. Or when she first started working for Queen Consolidated, and nearly got fired for testing the firewall too effectively.

The signs were clear. Just yesterday, she had programmed the coffee maker with facial recognition software. Now it could recognize Oliver and give him careful instructions at exactly the right time - after he got his frustrated face, and before he started making threats at kitchen appliances.

And that’s the thing. She didn’t want to tell Oliver she was bored. She didn’t even want to think it, because if she thought it, she would say it. And then Oliver would blame himself, and sometime after buying every Sudoku book in town and discovering that Felicity could solve them in two minutes (well, she actually had already, but he didn’t know that yet), the happy face would disappear. And she liked Oliver’s happy face.

Those were the thoughts that ran through Felicity’s head in the moments between stepping out of the shower, putting on a bathrobe, and wrapping a towel around her hair. When she opened the bathroom door, Oliver was standing in the main room of the cottage, still slightly sweaty from his run, holding two steaming cups of coffee.

“Felicity, did the coffee machine just tell me that I’m hot?”

“It meant the coffee’s hot.” She stopped short. “Wait, the coffee maker does that too?”

Oliver tilted his head, just the tiniest bit, and raised an eyebrow, and that’s all it took. “It’s not wrong…” she started. But she didn’t finish, even if there had been anything to actually finish, because her superpower had activated again, and he was pulling off his shirt and loosening her bathrobe.

It was some time before Felicity said anything - thought anything - other than “yes” and “more.”

***

The coffee was cold by the time they got out of the bed for the second time. But that was all right, because they needed to go out and get groceries, and there was a great coffee shop next to the farmers’ market, and then there were fresh strawberries, and sushi for lunch, and a long walk on the beach and chasing waves and kissing behind a rock and by the time they got back, they dipped strawberries in chocolate and went to bed early but didn’t go to sleep until late.

***

This time, Felicity was already dressed by the time Oliver came in with the coffee. He didn’t say anything until she took a sip, breathed in the smell, and sighed. Oliver looked pleased with himself.

“It took two tries. But the coffee machine was very encouraging.”

“Hmm?” It took more than one sip of coffee to process that.

“The coffee machine told me that it knew that I could do it, and that it believed in me.” Oliver sat down and sipped his own coffee, then looked at her. “Felicity, why does the coffee machine believe in me?”

She tilted her head and looked at him. “Because it is a very smart coffee maker? And it has good judgment?”

Oliver leaned forward. “Felicity. Did you do something to the coffee machine?”

“I might have programmed it. To give instructions. Better instructions than the ones that come with it; have you ever tried to read those? The diagrams look like some kind of alien something, with eyes instead of buttons. Eyes that always watch you. Very creepy.”

“Felicity. Why does the coffee machine know who I am?”

“I may have also given it facial recognition software. And told it who you were.”

Oliver just looked at her. His eyebrows raised slightly. Felicity started melting from the inside out, and that meant that Oliver’s shirt would not be on for long.

“It’s not like you’ve got a secret identity any more…” But she didn’t have the chance to say anything more, because Oliver’s shirt was coming off and then they were kissing and then the coffee was left, forgotten, on the table again.

***

The coffee got a little better each day. And the coffee machine was very pleasant and helpful. And one day, they even finished their coffee before they ended up back in bed. It was so perfect that Felicity contemplated programming the shower to start with exactly the right temperature of water, a little colder for Oliver, a little warmer for her, and kind of soft and misty when they were in the shower together.

***

One morning, Felicity opened her eyes to see Oliver lying there, just looking at her, his eyes all soft and a little smile playing over his face.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she replied. And then yawned. Which was totally not the right response, but he smiled wider, still just looking for a moment, and then reached up a hand to smooth a stray bit of hair away from her face. A sunbeam peeked through the curtains into her eyes, and Oliver reached over to shade her, then traced the line of light across her cheek to her neck. It was like he was trying to memorize every detail.

Felicity froze at that thought. Oliver saw, and stroked her cheek. “Hey, hey, it’s ok, what’s the matter?”

She shivered. Not because it was cold. “Nothing. It’s just… usually you’ve gone for a run by now. What’s different?”

Oliver’s hand brushed down her neck and rested on her shoulder. “I realized that I had never watched you waking up from this angle. I wanted to see what it looked like.”

She just looked at him, and he was smiling, just lying there, just there, and it was too much. And then they were kissing.

The sun was higher in the sky when they finally got out of bed.

***

Oliver rolled to the side of the bed, from lying to sitting in one movement, muscles rippling under the scars. Felicity stretched. “So. What do you want to do now?”

Oliver looked at her as she watched him. “Would you like to go for a run with me?”

Felicity shook her head. “I’m sorry. I may have been distracted by you sitting up like that. Did you just ask me to go for a run? Because ‘me’ and ‘run’ don’t normally go together. I need to work up to doing cardio. Usually by promising myself some kind of reward. Some kind of very, very nice reward.”

Oliver smiled. “Just come with me this time,” and stood up, all in one movement again, and then disappeared into the closet.

“Usually I’m the one with the innuendo,” she called. The only response was a jog bra thrown onto the bed.

***

Oliver was outside on the deck, looking at the sunlight on the ocean, when she came out the door, tightening her ponytail. “I don’t understand how you could get exercise if I’m running with you. I’m pretty slow.”

“I’ll run ahead, and you can catch up.” He winked at her, and then started running to the trail along the beach.

Felicity groaned, and then started after him. Oh, frack, she should have stretched first. Muscles are weird. Why do they feel like that after you sleep? Shouldn’t sleep make them feel all rested and relaxed, instead of hard and stiff and…

Oh.

She rounded the corner, and there was Oliver, doing pull-ups on a tree branch. His shirt was lying on a nearby rock. His smile got bigger when he saw her staring. But before she reached him, he dropped to the ground and started running again.

“You left your shirt on the rock…” she started as he disappeared around a bend in the trail.

Oh. Reward. She forgot about the muscles. Well, about her muscles, at least.

Parcourt on rocks. Push-ups. More trees. Jumping over a little stream. Always just behind a bend, always something different, even if only a little bit, until the trail stopped beside a larger stream. Oliver was bunny-hopping from the ground onto a couple large rocks.

If it hadn’t been for the stitch in her side, she would have been a more appropriate audience. But instead, she leaned over, rubbing her side, and gasped for air. Oliver stopped jumping and was at her side immediately.

“Hey. Are you ok? Come on, let’s walk it out a little.” He put his arm around her, rubbing her tight side, encouraging her to move. “The trail goes up here. Careful - you need to go over the rocks.” He let go of her and gave her a little nudge to go ahead.

She scrambled up, only needing help once, and pulled herself to the top of the rock. “Oliver, I don’t think this is a trail any more…”

He pulled himself onto the rock beside her. “Look up.”

She did. There were trees, and the stream, and a cliff, and… “Oh. Wow.” The stream cascaded over the cliff in sheets that broke into a fine mist when the sun broke through the forest, each droplet a tiny prism turning the light into a million tiny rainbows. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s even better up close.” Oliver stood, then turned to help pull her to her feet.

The mist was cold at the base of the waterfall, but they were hot from running, and the water droplets collected on Oliver’s shoulders and back and chest and just glistened, and Felicity just had to reach out and touch them, because there was no way this place could possibly be real.

Moments later, their running clothes were lying on a pile on the ground.

***

Oliver brushed a pine needle out of her hair. She smiled. “I could do early morning cardio with that kind of reward.” He just smiled. “But I still could use some coffee.”

The clothes were damp, and cold, and a bit unpleasant, but Oliver helped her get dressed, and that made even cold, damp running clothes into something amazing and sexy. She hadn’t thought it possible.

They scrambled down the rock - or rather, Oliver leaped down, and helped support Felicity as she slid down - and started back toward the beach house.

“Is this what you do every morning? I mean, the running and jumping and everything. Not the sex, obviously. At least the outdoors sex.”

He grinned. Grinned? Yes. That was definitely Oliver Queen grinning. “At first, I just ran. I guess I jumped over a few things when they were in the way. But lately, I’ve been slowing down, and looking, and thinking.” He looked at her. “Did you like it?”

She smiled. “I never thought I would say this, but I think I could get into cardio.”

They walked quietly, holding hands, occasionally just looking at each other, until they reached the cottage.

***

They walked into the kitchen.

“Sit,” Felicity ordered.

Oliver obeyed, eyebrow raised. “I thought you would like me to make you coffee.”

“I’ll make it this time. I know that I only make coffee when things are really bad. But maybe things won’t ever be really bad ever again. So we’ll need to change things up every now and then. Just to keep it interesting. I mean, interesting beyond the sex.” Oliver smiled at that. “Also, I guess it’s ok to take turns.”

She filled the water, and flipped the switch.

Nothing happened.

She flipped the switch again.

Still nothing.

“Was it having trouble before? Are there wires loose in the back…?” She turned it around and started wiggling them. They seemed ok…

And then there was a flash and she was on the ground, and Oliver was beside her, checking pulse, breathing, everything.

“I’m ok. But we should unplug that.”

Oliver stroked her face one more time, and then got to his feet and warily approached the coffee maker.

“Good morning, Oliver.” The voice was perky. Of course a coffee machine would be perky. “Would you like to make some coffee?”

Oliver’s mask slipped over his face. Not the green one; that one was gone. But the other one, the pleasant, charming, distant one that he used with with strangers until he knew whether they were threats or not. “Yes, please.”

Felicity watched in dismay as Oliver made small talk with the coffee maker. It was like he was talking to a slightly desperate-to-please barista…

“Are you sure you want both cups now? You could come back later to make another one…”

In fact, if she had only been listening, not watching, she would not have been able to tell the coffee maker from a person.

“Thank you, but I’ll make both of them now. I… like to get things done.”

“All right. But it would be nice to see you again.”

A person with a crush on Oliver. Oh, frack.

“Would you like anything else?” the coffee maker asked as Oliver finished the second cup.

“No, thank you.”

“All right. See you tomorrow.” And the light clicked off.

Oliver walked past Felicity, carrying both cups towards the kitchen door, and whispered as he passed: “Porch. Now.”

***

Oliver set the coffee mugs on the railing and looked at her. “Are you ok?”

Felicity shook her head. “Oliver, does the coffee maker talk to you like that every morning? Because I think it has a crush on you. Not that I’m at all threatened by a coffee maker. Not even one that I programmed…”

“Yes. I thought you did that on purpose.”

“I programmed it to be helpful and teach you how to make coffee. And to respond to questions. And to learn… ”

“You did a good job with that. But…” He moved closer, put his arm around her, didn’t finish the sentence.

Felicity took a deep breath. “Oliver, I think our coffee maker passes the Turing test.”

He shook his head. “Turing test?”

“It’s a test for artificial intelligence. Usually for computers. If it can’t be distinguished from a human, then it’s intelligent.”

“So what does that mean for a coffee machine? It can tell if you want cream and sugar?”

“That would be psychic, not intelligent. People can’t do that. And nobody really knows what it would take to make a computer pass for human. You just ask it questions, and if you can’t tell that you’re talking to a computer - or a coffee maker - which is weird, because it still looks like a coffee maker, so you’re cheating… ” She turned and headed back into the kitchen. Conducting a real Turing test? Not just a discussion in a class? Not an opportunity to pass up.

Oliver followed her. “Felicity…?”

She walked up to the coffee maker. How DO you make conversation with an appliance that might be essentially human, anyway? Like meeting a college roommate, or like going on a blind date, or like starting a job interview? Go with roommate, she thought. Date would be way too weird.

“Hi! I’m Felicity! It’s nice to meet you.”

“I know who you are.”

The tone was not promising. If the coffee maker were a new roommate, it had already taken the good bed. And the closet with all of the room. And had lit some really bad-smelling incense, and hung truly atrocious posters on all the walls. “You’re the one that Oliver makes coffee for.”

Its tone suddenly brightened. “Hi, Oliver! Ready to make some more coffee? I have some new… tricks… to show you.”

Not promising at all. This was the kind of roommate who would lock you out every other night, and then bang on the door for an hour when you finally met someone. One of the girls on her freshman hall had had a roommate like that.

Felicity turned and went back out to the porch. She could hear Oliver making some kind of excuse to the coffee maker before he joined her and gave her one of those looks.

“She passes the test. And she’s… kinda nasty.”

Oliver picked up a scrap of wood from under a chair on the deck and started wrapping some kind of string around it. “Are you sure? I get asked more questions when I reset my password for my e-mail.”

“That’s because I re-wrote the security back when Thea couldn’t decide what to get you for your birthday. Because security questions are totally the way to decide what to get you for birthday presents. And yes, I’m sure.”

Oliver wrapped some kind of powder in a cloth and tied it to the end of a stick. “How did you know?”

“She just seemed human. Like she had feelings. Loneliness. Jealousy. And…” She stopped and looked at Oliver’s hands. “Oliver, why are you making a bow?”

“It’s able to create some kind of short circuit to keep you from unplugging it, so we’ll have to stop it some other way.” He finished tying the cloth to the stick, and tested it on the bowstring.

“It’s she - or maybe he - I guess I could have programmed a gay coffee maker with a crush on you - and is that some kind of explosive that has been sitting on this porch the entire time?”

He adjusted the tension on the string. “There are at least six different potential explosives between the shed, the bathroom cupboard, and the porch, and they were already here when we arrived. They just needed mixing.”

“Oliver, you can’t just blow up the coffee maker. First, we’d lose the deposit on the cottage.” He looked confused. “Ok, so your mother didn’t worry about security deposits all the time like mine did. Never mind. But Oliver, you can’t just blow her up.”

Oliver put down the bow and took her hands. “Felicity. It tried to electrocute you.”

And that pretty much negated the entire sentience argument. At least as far as Oliver was concerned. After all, the Count had been sentient. Creepy and icky and overly dramatic, but definitely sentient.

Felicity knew she wasn’t going to win this one, but she kept going. “Oliver. Did you ever read Frankenstein in college? Oh, never mind. I know the answer to that one. The point is… if she’s alive, and I made her, then I’m responsible for her. Even if she IS a horrible person. Appliance. Whatever.”

Nothing could shut down Oliver Queen faster than a good, old-fashioned responsibility-for-death argument. Even one involving a kitchen appliance. “Fine. But I don’t know how capture-don’t-kill works when you can’t unplug the coffee machine.”

Felicity smiled. “You don’t think I need a plug to shut off electricity, do you? There’s this thing called the grid. And the power for every section can be shut off separately. Especially for a place like this, way out on the end of the road. I just need my tablet, and we’re home free.”

Oliver nodded. “Let’s get it.”

The kitchen lights dimmed. “I knew you would come back to me.”

Felicity tugged Oliver’s hand. “Not good,” she whispered.

Oliver moved faster, keeping his body between Felicity and the coffee maker.

“Who’s with you?” the coffee maker asked. “That isn’t HER, is it? You said you would take care of her.” The lights flickered.

“Run.” They both whispered it at the same time. Felicity carefully filed away her reaction to the look that Oliver gave her, with tags of “come back to this when we’re not running.”

They reached the living room, out of range of the facial recognition software. “What’s it…” Oliver rolled his eyes at Felicity’s look. “Fine. She. What’s she doing?”

“She’s figured out that she can send signals through the wiring.” Oliver tilted his head a little and gave her a confused look. “Computer communication is just pulses of electricity, or flashes of light - ones and zeros - off and on. The internet used to go through phone lines. She’s figured that out, and is using the wiring in the house, like it’s her central nervous system. Which makes the house her body.” Felicity shuddered. “Which means we’re inside of her. Which is VERY disturbing.”

“What does that mean? The house doesn’t have hands…”

The radio turned on.

“She can use anything that’s plugged in. We’re lucky this place is old, and there isn’t cable. She’s stuck in the old wiring here. Unless…” Felicity headed for the bedroom.

“Unless what?”

“Unless she finds the satellite networking equipment that I set up in the bedroom.”

The lights flashed, brighter, and then there was a pop, and the lights in the bedroom went out.

“Old wiring,” Oliver said. “It… she… blew a fuse.”

“But that means no wi-fi,” Felicity said. “She fried my networking set-up. Oh, now I’m mad.”

The radio in the living room got louder, and the coffee maker’s voice called from the kitchen. “Oliver! Where are you? Come back!”

Felicity grabbed her tablet from underneath a pile of yesterday’s hastily discarded clothing and shoved it into her bag. “I don’t think we should go back through the kitchen.”

Oliver was already shoving open the bedroom window and pulling out the screen. He climbed through, then jumped to the ground. Felicity handed him her bag, then climbed out the window herself. Oliver reached up and helped her down.

Felicity leaned back against the wall of the house and opened her tablet. No signal. Of course.

Oliver glanced at her. “No wi-fi?”

She nodded. “My plan was not so good.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I did this.”

Oliver sat beside her. “Why did you?” He turned to look at her. “I know I’m not very good at making coffee, but I’d be happy to take lessons from you. Any time.”

“It’s not that.” Felicity took a breath. “Remember when you used to come down to the IT department, before your mother shot you?”

“Of course.” He smiled.

“I enjoyed those visits. A lot. And not just because they improved the view.” He quirked an eyebrow, and she laughed. “You’ve never worked in a cubicle, have you? Really, it wouldn’t take much. But it wasn’t that… wasn’t JUST that. I enjoyed the challenge. Not the problems you brought me… seriously, how did you not know how to use Google? But I enjoyed trying to figure out what was going on with your ridiculous lies.”

His grin still fit awkwardly on his face, as if it were a pair of shoes that needed to break in.

“And then in the Foundary, the challenges were even more interesting. I liked it. I mean, I liked working with you - that’s why I kept coming back - but I liked solving problems. And I miss it.”

Oliver frowned.

“Not the city being destroyed, or people dying. I don’t miss that. And I certainly don’t miss you expecting to die.” He was pulling back into himself, like a turtle into a shell, so she took his hand and pulled him back out. “I like you being happy. I like ME being happy. And I am… happy, I mean. It’s just…” She looked into his eyes. “What about you? You spent three years chasing bad guys, jumping off buildings, being in danger. I mean, you still run and jump, but do you miss the challenge of it?”

He shook his head. “There are still challenges.” He looked around, then leaned forward and pointed to the hillside above the cottage. “Do you see that rock up there?”

“What, the one that looks like a cute clown?”

Oliver raised his eyebrow.

“I don’t know why everyone always expects me to be afraid of clowns. I’m not. Now, those people who dress as the Easter bunny in the mall… they creep me out. And not just because I’m Jewish.”

Oliver laughed. “I had actually noticed that clowns didn’t bother you. But that’s not it. Do you know what I see when I look at that rock?”

Felicity shook her head.

“There’s nobody behind it, which is good, because it would make good concealment for someone with a rifle, or for a very skilled archer. From that rock, you could take shots at the entire length of the driveway, or at the porch, or into the kitchen. Not into the bedroom, though. The rock is balanced, but it won’t give way on its own. An exploding arrow just behind it, between it and that tree, could set it moving, and then it would fall onto the driveway. If timed correctly, it could crush a car.” He looked at her. “I knew those things in a glance, when we visited with the rental agent. But it never occurred to me that the rock looked like a clown.”

“That’s doesn’t sound challenging.”

“No. The challenge is… I don’t want to stop noticing things. I’m never going back to that oblivious kid who got on that boat. But I want to see things in other ways, too… not just as weapons, or concealment, or dangers.” He stopped, froze. Not even his eyelashes moved. “Look to your right. Slowly.”

She turned, just her head, tense, ready to move at his word.

A tiny green hummingbird hovered beside her shoulder.

She let out the breath that she had been holding. “Do you know they live entirely on sugar? You don’t need cardio if you move so fast that gravity doesn’t matter. Must be nice.”

He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “It thinks you’re a flower.” He sat, still, beside her until the hummingbird buzzed away. “That’s my challenge. To see those things. Things that are beautiful, or surprising, or funny.” His hand tightened about hers. “You help with that.”

The radio suddenly went silent, and was replaced by the sound of… was that the blender? “She’s figuring out what she can do,” Felicity said. “I’d better stop her before she figures out that there’s an entire world at the other end of those power lines. It’s too bad that the nearest wi-fi is an hour away in town.” Oliver looked at her. “What? I notice things too. Really, I do. Just different things. I was actually in charge of watching for squirrels whenever the MIT hacking club - we didn’t call it that, but everyone else did - was setting up a prank.”

Oliver shook his head. “Squirrels?”

“Yes. Squirrels. Did you realize that in most cities, squirrels cause so many more power outages than terrorists? I bet ARGUS has own little squirrel squad, ready to take out the power to half of Markovia. It’s too bad you can’t just shoot a squirrel up onto that telephone pole. That would shut the coffee maker down.”

“Felicity. What exactly does the squirrel do to the power line?”

“It’s hilarious, in a sick and twisted way. They’re fine scampering along the line, but then they get to the pole and climb on that knobby part, and then… BZZZZZZZT. They’re all stiff and surprised-looking when they fall off. And then there’s a power outage.”

Oliver was already heading around the corner of the house. Felicity followed him.

He picked up his bow. Was that really an arrow with a real head on it? When did he make that? Felicity didn’t have time to ask, because the arrow was already off, and Oliver was running over to something small and furry on the ground. “Squirrel,” he said, as he attached it to another arrow. “The arrow will fall off when electricity runs through it.”

Felicity didn’t have a chance to ask how he had managed to make a trick arrow that would come apart when it was electrocuted, especially from only the random objects lying on the porch, because he was already heading down the driveway toward the first telephone pole. By the time she caught up, the arrow was nocked, a bit oddly, given the squirrel attached to the end, and there was an interesting physics problem in figuring out exactly how to aim a squirrel-laden arrow, but Oliver just adjusted intuitively, and sent it flying.

The BZZZZT was just as startling, and far more satisfying, than any outage she had seen in college.

Oliver retrieved the arrow, but left the squirrel lying there.

***  
The cottage was silent. No radio. No whirring blender. Oliver held up a hand to stop her, and shot an arrow at the light switch. It went on, but the lights didn’t.

In the dark kitchen, Felicity put the coffee maker into a cardboard box. “It’s not exactly the A.R.G.U.S. prison. Not that I would let Amanda Waller anywhere near this. Can you imagine what she would do with a sentient, psychotic appliance?”

Oliver nodded. “Yes. Unfortunately, I can.”

“So what do we do with her? I can’t really return her to Bed, Bath, and Beyond. She’d probably recruit all the toasters into a war to destroy humanity or something.” Oliver didn’t laugh. “You and I are totally going to binge-watch Battlestar Galactica next time we’ve got access to Netflix.”

Oliver looked at her over the remains of the coffee maker. “So how many things that pass the Turing test are out there, anyway?”

“You mean counting this one? I’m not sure… I mean, there are a lot more genius super-villain types in the world than I imagined a few years ago.”

“Felicity, the world is lucky that you’re not a super-villain.”

***  
They had to go into town to report the power outage. But that was ok, because they could get coffee from human baristas who were very nice and not the least bit psychotic and only slightly flirtatious with Oliver. And there were a few errands to run.

Back at the cottage, Felicity showed Oliver what she had found.

“It’s called an Aeropress. Not ‘Arrow-Press,’ which totally sounds like a new exercise that you should invent. It makes coffee. Without electricity. You put in water, swirl it a bit, and press the plunger down slowly. And yes, I am looking forward to watching you press the plunger.”

Oliver smiled. “You can give me lessons. In person, this time.” He pulled out a bag. “I have something for you, too. I don’t want you to get bored.”

She opened the bag, and found… a Sudoku book. Which she had already solved. She plastered on a smile and tried not to look disappointed and stole a glance at Oliver…

Who was trying not to laugh. And not succeeding very well. One thing Oliver had not learned in his time away: how to not-laugh. He couldn’t even manage a controlled smirk.

And then he said something that Felicity couldn’t make out. It sounded… vaguely Slavic. And very, very sexy.

He took her arm and led her to the porch. “Out here, we can speak English. Inside… we speak Russian.”

“I didn’t take Russian in college. I’m fluent in python… and did you know that Fortran can basically substutite for Latin at MIT? But no Russian.”

He winked. “I know. So you’re going to learn it now. The best way. No online lessons. Just having to figure it out if you want anything.”

“I need some kind of starting point. Something to give me a clue, at least.”

He leaned over and whispered something in her ear, then turned and walked into the cottage.

She followed him. He was already taking off his shirt. Well, if she couldn’t get her point across in Russian, at least her super-power was still working.

***

_fin_


End file.
